


Jealous

by Inthelittledoctor



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied Smut, Jealousy, thoughts of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 16:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6016429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inthelittledoctor/pseuds/Inthelittledoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor takes Clara to a ball and she runs off immediately when they get there to dance with another man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealous

If he could die from heartbreak he'd already be dead. Here he stands, watching the woman he (reluctantly) loves dancing with another man. A younger man with better hair, he notes. Trust him to take her to a ball just to get shot down by her. Now this twist of his hearts and this ache of his gut was nothing new to this regeneration, in fact, it was a familiar feeling. It'd started with slight anger directed towards whoever decided it was a good idea to touch her, and slowly turned into what it was now, heart wrenching pain. Recently it's been accompanied by hopelessness and if he's being honest with himself, he isn't quite sure why. 

As he watches her take delicate and swift steps with the man in front of her, he wants to scream until his lungs give out. That should be him. Him holding her hand, other hand on her waist as he leads her movements. Him bringing that (even though he would never admit it, beautiful) grin to her lips, the one where her teeth just barely flash through, but he can tell that she is completely and utterly overflowing with joy. It shouldn't be that man that causes that grin. It should be him. But as soon as they'd gotten there she'd waltzed off without even a simple goodbye, found another man, and clung to him like he was her lifeline. It disgusted him. Perhaps he should just leave. That usually stopped the feeling he was currently experiencing. Although that means he'd be away from her, and anything could happen in his absence, including the new bad decision making lovebirds (why are people called birds?) making out. So he's deciding to stay and keep a close eye on the offending couple, attempting to ignore the stabbing feeling inside of him. He could get over this. He was over two-thousand years old, he'd dealt with much worse feelings than this. Well, actually, this came pretty close to one of the worst feelings he'd ever experienced. Clenching his fingers into a fist at his side, he's taking a sharp intake of breath and deciding not to let this bother him. This lasts about two seconds because now that idiot of a man's hand is on a journey to a very not appropriate area (granted there were worse areas for him to touch, he reasoned, this was only her arse after all.) and she's seeming to not mind at all, actually cuddling into him. Now this, this was something he wouldn't stand for, his Clara would not be violated why he was standing near by. 

He desperately wants to go over and stop them, because that's what he does, stop bad things from happening, right? But this doesn't quite look like such a bad thing, she's smiling and not telling the man off, which, in his opinion, is rather impressive. He can't go five minutes without her telling him off for something daft he's done (slight exaggeration, but it does seem like she's doing it far too much.). The feeling's gotten stronger, he's noticing, now spreading throughout his entire body, ache taking up every part of his being. He's wishing he knew what this feeling was so he could make it stop, but he hasn't the slightest clue as to what it could possibly be (even if he did, how could he stop emotions from running their course?). Solemnly, he's taking a drink from the nearest waiter, taking a sip of it to find that it's something akin to whiskey, only there was an aftertaste that tasted like the foulest orange to have ever existed. No more of that, then. The feeling's still there, no matter how hard he tries to ignore it. He hates it. It makes him feel like his soul is being crushed. He wants to make it stop. Too bad alcohol doesn't drown out Time Lord's problems as well as it does humans. If it did, he'd be drunk already. His gaze is going back to them and he's smiling slightly when he sees that the man dancing with her (who will now and forever be known as Handsy, due to his earlier groping) had decided to move his hand to her lower back. Good. Handsy didn't have any right to be touching her like he was. 

Nothing seems to want to go his way for very long because a few seconds later Handsy is leaning down and whispering something into her ear, and he's seeing the way she giggles and it tears him apart because he wasn't the one to elicit that giggle from her. He was going to kill that man. Apparently Handsy had whispered something pretty pleasing to her because she's leaning up to place a kiss on the man's cheek. A painful jolt of something (what was that?) is going through him and as much as he wants to do something about her and this man, he can't because she's just too damn happy with him. She doesn't even know the man, so why is she so friendly with him? Not just friendly, but touchy too. He didn't like touchy. Not when she was touching people that weren't him. Maybe he could come up with a distraction? Try and extract her from Handsy as quick as possible. That sounded a bit wrong now that he thought about it. Very very wrong. Bad Doctor. And there's that jolt again because he's imagining her and that stranger doing things that are most certainly not appropriate to be doing with someone she just met and he'd rather not imagine things like this at the moment. He'd actually never like to imagine it at any moment in time, if possible. If he could burn the thought, he would. A note to self is being made to later find a planet that can take memories out of people's minds and burn them in a space volcano or something like that. 

You can't just put space in front of things, he's lecturing himself, there's no such thing as a space volcano. Well, there was actually that one that erupted bits of space time, but that was beside the point. Focus, he's chastising himself, going back to the task at hand, only to notice that her and her new boyfriend were no where in sight. Well, this wasn't going quite as planned. Looking around, he's seeing them by the bar and stalking over, carefully not to draw any attention. He may has well have just come in crashing cymbals as loud as humanly (why was he comparing his abilities to that of a human?) possible, because he was not discrete in the slightest while entering. He'd tripped on a woman and in the process of falling, managed to snag his arm on someone's leg and pull them down with him. He'd managed to shield the person from the fall by wrapping his arms around her and apparently she was grateful because she thanked him (ha, that was sarcasm. She yelled at him until he took his arms off of her, there was no thanking involved. It was him that pulled her to the ground, after all.). He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that this isn't just any person next to him, but is in fact Clara Oswald. He's opening his eyes to be met by possibly the deadliest glare he's ever been given. Oh, wonderful. He can't think of a way this night could get any worse. 

That is until she starts lecturing him about following her around while still laying on the floor, and he's thinking that it'd be nice to wake up laying next to her because he's currently in love with the way she looks on the floor next to him (he may have lost interest in her lecture about two words in and started daydreaming.). She's getting up and brushing off her dress, going back to her dancing partner. Emphasis on partner apparently because now they were holding hands and he thinks he might be sick. He's getting up to find his stomach lurching and he hates everything in this moment. He hurts so much inside. How could he possibly fix this hurt? Part of him tells him to make her hurt back, and because he's mad and tired and just downright exhausted of coming up with plans, he's deciding that yes, that's a brilliant idea. That is until he looks at her, her eyes bright and her smile glowing like the sun. He couldn't. No matter how bad she hurt him, he could never hurt her back. 

He could go back to the TARDIS and wait for her, he's thinking, although that means leaving the two alone and he wasn't quite willing to do that. She's now whispering something to Handsy and he's assuming it to be something bad about himself, but then again, why even talk about him at all when they were hitting it off so damn well. She's happy, he's reminding himself, be happy for her. Or even better yet, to Hell with her, he could get any woman he wanted (albeit he didn't want any other woman), so why bother with her? Wait, when did this become something about want to be with her? Or wanting her? He was her friend, nothing more, and he never expected to be anything but that. Though there was a part of him telling him he did want their relationship to be more, and he can't exactly argue with that because he has just spent the past hour feeling like someone was reaching into his chest and squeezing his hearts as tightly as they could while stabbing him mercilessly in the gut. Any this was all because she was being affectionate with a man that wasn't him. So yeah, he may want a little more out of their relationship than he lets on, but it's not like he actually expects their relationship to become romantic, because he actually had realistic expectations. Unlike some people (a glare is thrown in the direction of the developing lovers.).

A half an hour and a far too many drinks later and she's pulling the man out of the bar, and he'll be damned if he lets them go somewhere without him, so he's trailing a few metres behind them, being careful so as not to be caught. They end up going upstairs to a bedroom and he wants to intervene so badly, so for once in the night, he actually listens to his urge and acts on it. Running to catch up with them, he's grabbing her arm right before she touches the door handle and she's turning her head quickly to look at him, a murderous look in her eye, making the look earlier look like child's play. Okay, so he'd just interrupted something important obviously. Oops. Perhaps he should apologise. Or just go on a rant about some alien being invading the ball like he's already doing. Genius Doctor. He really should have thought this through better because half of the stuff he's saying at the moment doesn't make any sense whatsoever and he can tell she doesn't believe him, nor care. Well, it was worth the try. It's not like she was actually going to go in there and have sex with Handsy. Or was she? Oh God. Nope. No. Not going to happen. Most certainly not on his watch. She's asking if he has anything else to say, and of course he has something else to say because he will not allow her to sleep with that man, but as he goes to open his mouth, no words come out. 

She wanted this didn't she? Why was he trying to stop her? He had a duty of care, he's reasoning, but that meant nothing right now because she didn't need to be cared for when it came to this. She had someone to care for her during this particular task. He's bowing his head and dropping her arm, grumbling an apology. The door's closing and he's experiencing a lingering feeling of despair, every part of him aching, his limbs heavy. Then there's her moan. He hates this. So much. He'd rather be anywhere but here, but yet, he'd also rather burst into the room in front of him and stop them before they do anything too terribly serious. Instead of doing either of those things, he's stumbling back against the wall and sliding down it, hearing her drunkly moan the other man's name (Doug, why would she sleep with a Doug? Wasn't that her dad's name?). The list of things he would give to be Handsy at that moment could probably stretch across a galaxy, perhaps even further. Why was he here? He should leave, he really should. Pulling his legs up to his chest, he's groaning and burying his head between them. Gods, why did he have to let her wander off? Why didn't she just listen to the no wandering off rule? Everything would've gone so well if she did. They would've danced together and his defences may have lowered just enough for him to finally be able to kiss her. But now here they were, her having sex with someone who was almost a complete stranger and him sitting outside the room wishing he was the stranger. 

And it's at this moment that he's realising what it is that he's been feeling all day is. Jealousy. He was jealous. 

He's scoffing at this idea, because really, a Time Lord jealous of a human? Never.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Thought I'd do a double post today because I haven't posted in a while. Kudos if you enjoyed and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
